


enjoying some ‘personal time’ in the office

by lemon_verbena



Series: Striketober 2020 [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Floor Sex, Office Sex, Sex on the Floor of the Office, Smut, Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26785090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_verbena/pseuds/lemon_verbena
Summary: From the office, a series of breathy, high-pitched shrieks herald a woman’s climax.She taps on the door. “Want some company?” she calls, half-giggling. “Or are you enjoying your alone time?”
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Striketober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947751
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	enjoying some ‘personal time’ in the office

**Author's Note:**

> This one got entirely out of hand. I meant to write shower sex, but ended up scrapping that in favor of this, and they simply refused to stop bantering. Does anyone else have this problem? Cormoran and Robin simply like talking to each other too much!
> 
> In any case, enjoy. I hope the length makes up for the delay.

Robin comes into the office to be greeted by Pat’s frowning face. The lingering scent of caramel tobacco tells Robin that whatever was causing Pat’s furrowed brow, it’s been going on for a while. Pat only vapes caramel tobacco juice when she’s agitated.

“I’m done for the day,” Pat announces before Robin can even take off her jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Robin watches, bemused, as Pat takes her things and makes a pointed exit, nearly slamming the door behind her. The cause of Pat’s huff is obvious now— the tinny sounds of a woman’s theatrical moans are coming from the closed office door. It’s clear that Pat made an assumption about what Cormoran must be watching, and during working hours no less.

Robin hangs up her jacket on the hook that Pat just cleared and locks up; no one else is due to come in tonight, and it’s gone 4 already. From the office, a series of breathy, high-pitched shrieks herald a woman’s climax.

She taps on the door. “Want some company?” she calls, half-giggling. “Or are you enjoying your alone time?”

From the thumping, she surmises that Cormoran’s just taken his feet down from his desk and is trying to sort out how to pause the recording; she opens the door to see exactly this tableau.

“Hi,” Cormoran says, a bit wide-eyed. “You’re back.”

“Yes,” Robin says, “and Pat’s just left.”

“But it’s not 5 yet,” Cormoran says, glancing at the clock. “She can’t just skiv off like this all the time.”

“You forgot to wear headphones,” Robin tells him. “She thought you were enjoying some ‘personal time’ in the office.”

“She— fuck,” Cormoran says, glancing at his screen.

“You’ll have to apologize and explain tomorrow,” Robin says. She’s still standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She’s fairly certain that Cormoran’s trying to disguise a bulge in his slacks, and it might have worked if she hadn’t been paying attention.

“It’s the nannycam footage from the camera Barclay planted,” he says, as though Robin is the one to whom he needs to explain himself. “He picked up last week's tapes today. I was just looking for identifying marks on this girl.”

“Mm,” Robin says, coming around to his side of the desk. She leans over to look at the screen, which is frozen on a partially-obscured view of a bottle-blonde woman’s long, pale back and arse. She’s clearly astride their client’s husband, and from behind there is absolutely nothing identifiable about her. “No tattoos or anything.”

“No,” Cormoran says, his face quite close to hers. “Not that I’ve been able to find.”

Robin turns her head, looking right into Cormoran’s eyes. He’s waiting for her to be upset, she can tell; she’s got an odd sense of mischief in her, instead, and a coiling heat low in her stomach.

“Have you been looking _very_ hard?” she asks, her voice gone quiet and low.

Cormoran nods, his gaze flickering from her eyes down to her lips. She allows herself to smile, and doesn’t miss the suppressed relief that flickers through his expression.

“Maybe you need a pair of fresh eyes,” Robin suggests, still quiet. She thinks of this as her “accidentally seductive” voice— not too raspy, not too sensuous, just a suggestion of sexy. “I could help you look.”

“Jesus christ, don’t do this to me,” Cormoran says.

“I locked up,” Robin replies, and that’s all the encouragement Cormoran needs to close the distance between their mouths.

Robin giggles into the kiss, allowing herself to be pulled down into Cormoran’s lap— where, yes indeed, his cock is hard and insistent against her. “A bit wound up, are we?” she asks, as Cormoran’s hands slide along her waist. She’s sitting across him, her legs over the arm of the chair.

“I’ve been watching these videos for an hour,” Cormoran mutters into the skin of her neck, where he’s sucking marks light enough to fade by morning. “Husband’s got a rotation of girls, I’ve tallied at least four.”

“Ooh, talk dirty to me,” Robin says a bit dryly.

“Sorry,” he replies, and licks up her neck in apology. They have a deal: no business in bed. It occurs to Robin that this isn’t bed, per se, but at the rate Cormoran’s rocking up against her, they won’t make it that far.

She runs a hand into Cormoran’s hair as he twists her around, tugging her top down to get at her cleavage. She’s getting wet, but there’s no way for her to straddle him and get any sort of satisfaction between her legs in the chair. Cormoran’s mouth at her breast is a nice consolation prize for the moment, though.

“I missed you last night,” he tells her. His cock is throbbing its agreement, pressed against her arse, as his hand fumbles with her bra clasp through the thin material of her top.

“Missed you too,” she says. “Shall we take this to a bed?”

“Not interested in getting up,” Cormoran says, as he succeeds in freeing her breasts. Robin assists him in sliding her bra off and out from under her top, dropping it, and before it lands Cormoran is applying suction to her nipple.

“Ah— fuck—” Robin needs a moment to re-take control of her train of thought. “But I want you between my legs.”

“Floor?” Cormoran asks, switching to her other nipple. His tongue laves over it, leaving her top obscenely wet, the texture of the material adding to the pleasure spiking through her.

“You’re too old for the floor,” Robin objects, just to needle him. He gently swats at her bottom, which is— not unpleasant, shockingly, though Robin files that information away for later.

“Minx,” he says. “I can fuck you perfectly well on the floor if I want to.”

“Not the office floor,” she counters. “If you must, you can fuck me on the floor of your flat. Upstairs.”

“Hmph.” The frown on Cormoran’s face is so at odds with the tiny jerks of his hips, grinding up against her, that it sends Robin off into fresh giggles.

“Sorry,” she gasps, “sorry, please do feel free to fuck me on the floor if you _really_ must.”

“Now you’re making it sound like a chore,” he says. “Do you not want to have sex?”

“I absolutely did not say that,” Robin says. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

To illustrate her point, she unbuttons her jeans and slips a hand down, sliding her fingers through her own wetness to pull them out glistening. Cormoran’s eyes flicker from her hand to her face before delicately taking her wrist and sucking her fingers into his mouth.

“Floor,” Robin says as he licks her fingers clean. “Floor is fine.”

She’s already kicking off her shoes. Cormoran reclaims her mouth for a deep, filthy kiss, his tongue flavored oh-so-slightly of her.

“Knew I’d talk you into it,” he says, sounding deeply smug.

“Shut up, clothes off,” Robin instructs him. “There’s a box of condoms in the back of your bottom desk drawer.”

“Did you put those there?” Cormoran asks, trying to simultaneously open the drawer and undo his slacks.

“Neither confirming nor denying,” Robin says. “Hurry up, please.”

“So pushy,” he says, yanking out a condom from the box she had placed there a week previous for just such an eventuality. “I’m coming.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Robin asks, sitting on her discarded top as she shucks her jeans down her legs. Cormoran’s eyes are focused on the dark patch of fabric between her legs; she parts her knees to reveal her soaked knickers to his gaze.

“What? Yes,” he agrees, getting up from his chair.

“Trousers,” Robin prompts, and Cormoran lets gravity assist him with removing his as he stands to join her on the floor. “Pants.” These, too, are removed with haste, joining her knickers in a heap somewhere.

Kneeling on the floor as he applies the condom, Cormoran mutters, “The floor looks a lot dirtier than I remember.”

“This was your idea, and you’re not the one laying on it,” Robin informs him. “Hurry up or I’m starting without you.” Her hands slides down the crease of her thigh, distracting Cormoran thoroughly as it dips between her legs, tracing a path around her clit—

“Fuck,” Cormoran says, dropping down between Robin’s thighs, his hands bracketing her face as he gets into position. “How’s a man supposed to focus—”

“Aren’t you the one who’s so good at compartmentalizing?” Robin teases as he aligns his cock with her cunt.

“Shut up,” Cormoran pants, “I’m trying to fuck you, woman, please let me get on with it.”

“Oh, what charm, what wit,” Robin says to the ceiling, leaning back on her elbows to give him access. “He woos me with tender words—”

She is interrupted by Cormoran sliding home into her slick cunt, the slow stretch of him filling her so satisfyingly that she can only sigh with pleasure and relief.

“You were saying?” Cormoran says. Robin rakes the fingernail of one hand lightly across his shoulders, sending a shudder down his spine. “Yes, get on with it, right you are.”

He rocks into her with long, firm strokes, moving nearly out to all-the-way-back-in on each thrust. Robin lets her head hang back, allowing him to do the work, simply accepting the pleasure he gives her. After a minute or so, her free hand slips between them to provide some extra pressure to her clit as Cormoran continues to thrust. He keeps a steady rhythm, knowing it's the best way to get Robin off.

“I’m going to need a shower after this,” Robin says, feeling the telltale ripples of pleasure beginning to roll through her. “Ooh, do that again.”

Cormoran presses deep inside her at the end of his thrust, remaining bottomed out for a long moment, and Robin clenches down hard on his cock, enjoying the fullness.

“God, I can practically feel you in my stomach,” she murmurs.

“Flatterer,” he says, sounding winded. “Jesus, this isn’t as easy as I remember.”

“Well, when was the last time you had sex on the floor?” Robin asks, as he slides out of her to repeat the motion.

“I was a younger man,” Cormoran allows. “And it was a nicer floor.”

“Well, _I’m_ having a nice time,” Robin tells him, as he bottoms out inside her once more. “Ooh, yeah, right there.”

He rocks a little, still buried deep, and Robin sit up and clutches him tight, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Stay put,” she orders him, and then moves her other hand back to her clit. He nods, muscles taut, as she moves her fingers in small tight circles, the pleasure rolling through her so close to cresting— so close—

“I’m close,” she says, voice wound tight, and Cormoran slides back just a bit, making her whine, before sliding back home so hard and fast that it sends a burst of stars behind her eyelids, her orgasm washing through her like the tide rolling in. “Oh— Cormoran— oh—”

“That’s it,” Cormoran says, fucking her through it, reveling in the way he can feel the pleasure he’s given her as her cunt squeezes his cock. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Robin exhales a soft laugh, dropping back to lean on her elbows as Cormoran’s thrusts pick up speed. “You just like the way I say your name when I come,” she says, enjoying the little sparkling aftershocks as he slides deep inside her.

“I do,” he says, looking up from his contemplation of the way his cock looks where it enters her perfect, perfect cunt. “I also think you’re beautiful.”

“Now who’s the flatterer?” she says, licking her lips. “Come on, love, come for me.”

“Trying,” he says. “But it’s just— fuck— so good—”

“Please, Cormoran,” Robin says, letting her voice go soft with just a hint of pleading. “Come for me, please—”

“ _Je_ sus,” he swears, slamming deep inside one last time as he comes, feeling as though he’s poured himself hollow, as though he’s put his whole self into Robin. _“Fuck.”_

He drops his head to rest against Robin’s chest, his face pressing into the top of her breast, his breath panting against her sternum. She strokes his hair with one hand. He can hear the thump of her heartbeat, just beginning to slow down.

“Just so,” Robin agree. “Fuck indeed.”

He chuckles a little. “Good?”

She swats his shoulder softly. “You know it was. God, I needed that.”

“I could tell by how fast you came,” Cormoran says. “Long day?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll tell you about it after I shower. Christ, it’s disgusting down here.”

“Gimme a sec,” Cormoran says. “I’m a bit wiped out.”

“By all means, take your time,” Robin says, still stroking his hair. “I’m only laying in grime and filth beneath you. I wonder if I’ll smell like cigarette ashes?”

“Hey, I only smoke out the window,” Cormoran objects.

“And yet,” Robin says, swiping her free hand across the floor and raising it to his eyeline to show it coming back grey. “Ashes.”

“I give you orgasms and you only give me lip,” he mutters without rancor.

“Say that against and I’ll go back to my own flat tonight,” she says. “I have a vibrator that can do that too, and _it_ doesn’t keep me pinned on the floor.”

Cormoran heaves himself upright. “But does it buy you dinner?” he asks.

“Do _you?”_ Robin counters.

“Could do,” he says amiably. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

“Thank god, I thought we’d never get that far,” Robin says. “Do you see my knickers anywhere?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
